


It Started in the Stacks

by Eligh



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Libraries, M/M, Misuse of Classic Literature, Oral Sex, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-04
Updated: 2012-05-04
Packaged: 2017-11-04 20:23:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eligh/pseuds/Eligh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Spock experience a new piece of Starfleet technology and have some realizations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Started in the Stacks

**Author's Note:**

> I took liberties with the development of holodeck tech and Spock's exposure to classic human literature.

Jim was staring in awe around the massive room, a huge grin on his face. Books—books everywhere, as far as he could see. It even smelled like a library—paper and dust and the glue of the bindings…

He was in love with this new program.

He turned his grin on the technician standing next to him, who smiled nervously in return.

"This is seriously great."

The tech cleared his throat, slightly intimidated by the exuberant captain. "Thank you, sir. We chose a library as the test program to see if we could reproduce smells and textures appropriately. The representations of the books are everything the computer has in its memory, so there are quite a lot."

"And I can just walk around and pull stuff off the shelves, just like at a real library?"

"Yes, the computer compensates for your movements within the room. You end up staying mostly in one place."

"And how do I get out again?"

"You just say 'Computer, exit' or 'computer, control panel,' and the hologram will shut off around those points."

"This is brilliant. Can I just look around for a bit?"

"Of course. If you need anything, just ask the computer." The tech turned to leave, but was stopped by a hand on his arm.

"What do you call this thing, again?"

"Ah, we haven't come up with a definite name yet, but right now we're calling it the Computerized Virtual Reality Holographic Deck."

Jim shook his head at the mouthful of words. "Not very catchy. How about… Holodeck?"

The tech mouthed the word, and smiled. "I like that." He flashed Jim another nervous smile, and then turned to go. "Enjoy yourself, sir."

"I will." Jim turned, surveying the library.

It was two years into their mission, and so it had been just a little longer than that since he had been in a brick and mortar library. Not that this was exactly a real library… but it was pretty damn close.

Contrary to popular belief, Jim hadn't spent all three years at the Academy partying. In fact, the campus library was probably the place he had spent the majority of his time. Those quiet rooms had been his sanctuary away from the insanity of classes, pressure of relationships, and the overwhelming… everything that had been his life.

He missed it. That quiet thrumming of knowledge—the smell, the people, even the crappy public use computers. This representation didn't have other people or computers, though. Just familiar, paper books.

Suddenly, he wished that he had someone to share this. Not Bones—the man was someone to talk sports, play poker, have drinks with. Same with Scotty, although with him he had the added ability to talk warp drives and propulsion systems. Sulu and Chekov… they had their own thing going. And quite frankly, Uhura still slightly terrified him.

But Spock… Spock would be perfect for this. If anyone on his crew would appreciate the lure of books, it would be Spock. Jim let a far-off look grow on his face, grinning absently. He could show Spock his favorite novels, and he bet Spock would show him the logical-est of all logical Vulcan writings.

And then Jim would make a joke, and Spock would quirk his eyebrow, and if Jim was especially lucky, he'd get that barely upturned smile that was Spock's version of a grin, and his eyes would crinkle, and Jim could just  _swim_  in those chocolate gorgeous things forever…

Jim snapped himself out of his reverie.  _No, no, quit it. No fantasizing about your First Officer, Jim. None of that._

He'd been having some difficulty with this recently, and even more difficulty reining in the flirting. He really needed to buckle down and stop with the trying to get into his straight, Vulcan, incredibly sexy First's pants.

**OoOoOo**

Jim was late, and if Spock had been human, he would have been annoyed.

They were temporarily stationed on Starbase Epilon—the Enterprise was undergoing routine repairs and upgrades, and the captain and his First had made it a habit to take dinner together on the thoroughfare. Spock found it fascinating to watch the interactions among the various species passing through the base, and Kirk found it hilarious to tease Spock about his habit of people-watching.

Finally giving up and disposing of his soup and salad—barely touched, but Spock hadn't been that hungry anyway—the Vulcan found a nearby control panel and punched in his security clearance code.

"Locate Captain James Kirk."

"Captain James Kirk is located on Level Twelve, Section Three," replied the computerized voice willingly.

Spock—calmly, and not annoyed at all—walked to the nearest turbolift and headed toward Level Twelve.

While waiting for the lift to arrive, he pondered what Kirk could have been doing that would have made him miss their dinner. Level Twelve was experimental science labs—something his captain had shown  _entirely_  too much interest in when they had been given the tour of the base by Commander Zon. Several of the projects housed there were dangerous (more than one had a greater than 80 percent chance of exploding) and Spock was well aware of how reckless Jim could be when he wanted to experience something first hand.

In short, he sincerely hoped the reason for Jim missing their meal did not involve blood loss.

Upon arriving at Level Twelve, Section Three, Spock found an ensign and inquired regarding his captain's whereabouts.

"Captain Kirk? Oh, he's talking to Ensign Baker. Uh, they're in the virtual reality chamber. It's over there." She motioned to a set of doors.

Spock nodded to the ensign and walked to the doors. _Virtual reality… hopefully Jim is behaving appropriately…_ he had time to think before the doors slid open and a white-jacketed technician ran straight into him.

"Oh! Sorry, sir. I didn't see you."

"Apologies are illogical," Spock responded absently. He was looking past the tech into a gigantic room, which was filled to the brim with books. "What is this?"

"A Computerized Virtual Reality Holographic Deck. Or, I guess, a 'holodeck.' I like the sound of that, yea…"

"Is Captain James Kirk inside this… holodeck?"

"Yes, sir. He said he wanted to look around a bit. He should be right inside."

"May I enter as well? I am his first officer."

"Yea, it's all yours! But I have a meeting I need to get to, so he'd have to explain it to you…" the tech looked pained, undoubtedly at the prospect of not being able to show off more, but Spock was already moving past him.

"That will be fine."

He stepped inside, and the doors slid shut behind him, and appeared to melt into the wall. He quirked an eyebrow.

"Fascinating."

He turned to look around, and seeing no sign of Kirk, moved off between the stacks. The level of reality was impressive. He ran a hand over the binding of a book, surprised to feel that the leathery-looking material felt exactly as he thought it should. He could also smell the books, something that was extremely pleasing to him.

He missed the libraries of Vulcan. They had been a refuge in his childhood—even his classmates who so loved to bully him didn't dare cause problems in those hallowed halls. Vulcan libraries were near-silent monuments to educated learning, full of everything from ancient texts to the latest scientific publications. The only sounds had been the rustling of paper, the gentle tapping of keyboards, the scratching of pens. They were the haunts of scholars and professors, serious men and women to whom the pursuit of knowledge was their only God.

Libraries of Earth were entirely different. His mother had insisted that he would love them as much as the ones on his home planet, and they had visited many over the course of his childhood. Oddly, his favorites had been the ones that differed as much as possible from the libraries on Vulcan. These were loud and energetic buildings, full of parents attending story times with their young children and teenagers painting murals on walls. These were community gathering places, where friends met and talked about the latest novels and gossip.

As he stood in this hologram, breathing in the simulated dust and intoxicating smell of books, he decided that it had been too long since he had visited a real library.  _Next time we are Earthside_ , he promised himself,  _I will revisit my mother's favorite library_.

Pulling himself out of his memories, he heard quiet humming coming from his left, a few rows over. He turned to the source of the noise, and moving quietly, located the row his captain was in.

"You did not meet me for our customary meal," he said, breaking the silence.

Jim started violently, dropping the book he had been skimming, and turned to face Spock.

"Jesus, you scared the shit out of me."

"I sincerely hope you are not being literal."

He was given a withering look for that statement, to which he responded with a single raised eyebrow, and then Jim bent down to pick up the book he'd dropped.

"Sorry about dinner. I was distracted," he said upon rising. He gestured to their surroundings, his customary grin sliding into place. "This is great, isn't it? Being able to hold a physical copy of whatever book I want? I love it. PADDs are fine, but there's something about turning paper pages…" the captain trailed off, a small smile on his face.

"I was unaware you had such an appreciation for libraries."

"Some of my best memories happened in libraries," Jim responded, a smile Spock had come to associate with mischief growing on his face. The captain noticed the incredulous eyebrow raise, and rolled his eyes. "Not memories like  _memories,"_  he made a crude gesture. "But books, and warm feelings.I don't know… maybe it's something about the smell…"

"The smell is quite distinctive, Captain."

"True, and its Jim, Spock. We're on leave, call me Jim."

"The smell is quite distinctive, Jim."

The captain smiled at him again. "You are such a smartass, you know that?" Spock raised an eyebrow.

"My intelligence does not originate—"

"In your ass. I know. So, you wanted something?" Jim carefully slid the book he'd been holding back onto its proper place on the shelf.

Spock hesitated. Why had he come looking for the captain, again? Yes, he'd missed dinner, but that wasn't really a reason to intrude on his personal time.

"Not specifically," he finally said. "I checked on your whereabouts when you did not arrive on the thoroughfare for our usual meal, and saw you were in the experimental science labs. I wanted to ascertain your well-being."

"Aw, you missed me! That's sweet, darling."

Spock stood a little straighter. "I do not 'miss,' as it is an illogical emotion." Jim just smiled, and Spock felt a slight flutter in his side. He furrowed his brow. That  _smile_  was eliciting that reaction far too often. It was… frustrating.

"Also, it is nonsensical to refer to me as 'darling,' as that is an endearment reserved for use between mated couples. As our relationship is not at that level, your use of the word is incorrect," Spock finished, for some reason desiring to explain himself further than he would usually find necessary.

"But you admit that we have a relationship?" Jim asked, smile softly playing at his lips.

Spock's eyes widened almost imperceptibly when he realized belatedly that he had made an error in his phrasing. He had, uncharacteristically, let his subconscious desires affect his speech patterns. And now, he was at a loss for words.

"A… professional and friend…ly… relationship, Cap- Jim." He wanted to roll his eyes at himself, but instead worked his face into as blank a mask as he could manage. He felt that he had not produced such a disjointed sentence since when he was learning to speak as a toddler.

After eyeing the Vulcan for a long moment, Jim turned away and began to wander down the rows, thankfully changing the subject. "How much Earth literature have you read, Spock?"

"I am well-versed with several prominent human philosophers, scientists, and classic authors. I have also read seventeen more modern novels, at my mother's request." Jim nodded, his eyes scanning the engraved signs at the end of each stack.

He appeared to be looking for something specific. Apparently finding the row he wanted, he turned down, and after a moment more of searching, deftly plucked a thin book from the shelf.

"Have you read this one? It's a favorite of mine."

Spock looked down at the book that he had been handed. "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland," he read aloud. "No, I have not read this work."

Jim grinned. "It's a highly illogical book. I bet you can't get through it without getting annoyed."

"I do not get annoyed."

Jim snorted. "Not true, Spock. You're constantly being driven to frustration by your favorite captain. I see it in your eyes." Spock was unsure how to respond to this, so he simply opened the book at random, and read for a moment.

"What is a Jabberwocky?" He glanced up at Jim, and was mildly distressed to see the mischief-making smile again.

Suddenly, Jim lunged forward and grabbed his hands, pulling Spock close to his body and waltzing the two of them in circles. Spock's eyes widened, and he felt his heart flutter again, but he didn't try to pull away. He actually felt… flustered? And through the skin contact, he felt a surge of  _/thrill, happiness, desire/_  which made his eyes widen even more.

In a singsong voice, Jim spoke, matching the cadence of his words to the rhythm of their dance.

"'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgrabe.

'Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun the frumious Bandersnatch!'

He took his vorpal sword in hand: long time the manxome foe he sought –

So rested he by the Tumtum tree, and stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood, the Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,

Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, and burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through the vorpal blade went snicker-snack!

He left it dead, and with its head he went galumphing back.

'And, has thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy!

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!' He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe;

All mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgrabe.

"Captain," Spock forced out, after the captain had ceased his recitation, "please release my hands. You are being highly illogical." His words were entirely too breathy for his liking. Jim half-smiled, and continued to lead them in their music-less dance.

"Sorry, what did you call me?"

"Jim, please." Spock felt his hands immediately being released. He clasped his hands in front of his body, and straightened to stand in a slight variation of his customary parade rest, hoping that Jim would not notice the slight tightening in his pants that the skin-on-skin contact had elicited.

Judging from the way Jim's eyes flicked to his waist and then back up again to meet his own, familiar blue widened slightly in something that may have been shock, Spock felt he was unsuccessful in this endeavor.

Grasping for a distraction, he hurriedly rephrased the question that had resulted in the impromptu dance. "You did not answer my question about the nature of a 'Jabberwocky'. I assume that was a verse from the book?"

"Yea…" Jim said slowly, his eyes far away, as if he was attempting to process some astounding new information. "And the Jabberwocky is just some nonsense. A make-believe monster for a make-believe world." He paused, looking thoughtful. "Make-believe, just like this holodeck. I wonder if the programmers could make up a Wonderland program."

"That would be an illogical use of this technology. It would be best suited for training scenarios." Spock was speaking from rote—mildly disagreeing with the captain because playing the devil's advocate with the other man was just so easy—and he needed the conversation to draw out slightly in order to give himself time to manage his bodily… urges.

He was grateful that his biological controls allowed him to manage this feat in a matter of a few seconds. So when Jim's eyes inevitably glanced down again, the physical reaction Spock had so inappropriately shown before was no longer an issue.

"Spock. Not everything in the world needs a logical purpose. Sometimes you just gotta relax, you know?" Jim moved off down the row, apparently dismissing the unacknowledged earlier reaction. "You should read that book. I bet you fifty credits you can't finish it without 'eliciting feelings of annoyance'," he called over his shoulder.

Spock followed him, making a mental note to both download a copy of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland for later reading, and to keep a physical distance between himself and the captain until he had time to devote toward mediation.

When he caught up with the Jim, he was standing in the plays section, thumbing through a large collection of Shakespeare.

"You know, I was never able to get into Shakespeare. Too many 'thous' and 'verilys' for my head to wrap around. Andorian, I can understand. Vulcan," Jim said, his eyes flicking up to meet Spock's for a moment, and then looking away again, "I'm getting a hang of. But Old English? I just want them to speak normally."

"That is irrational. It is merely a variation of your native dialect."

"No, listen," Jim said, a smile on his face, and that glint of mischief in his eye, "Sonnet 18: Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? / Thou art more lovely and more temperate: / Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, / And summer's lease hath all too short a date…" Jim snapped the book shut, slid it back on the shelf, and turned to face Spock.

His voice was lower when he spoke again, and he looked at Spock through the fringe of his eyelashes, his blue eyes darkened to something that murmured 'sex.' Spock swallowed noticeably.

"It would be much easier to say something like: You're the most gorgeous and sexy thing I've ever seen. Nothing compares to you, not even the most beautiful day on the most beautiful planet in the most beautiful galaxy." Jim moved closer to Spock, who again raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think, Spock? More direct, to the point."

The Vulcan found it difficult to speak for a moment. "I-I suppose…"

Jim grinned again, moving a few centimeters closer. "I made you stutter."

"Vulcans do not stutter."

"Oh, don't be cranky." Jim hesitated for a moment, and then reached up, brushing a strand of Spock's hair back into place. "You are, you know. Beautiful. Not cranky." His eyes suddenly widened, and he removed his hand, as if he was shocked with himself.

Spock's mouth opened a fraction, and his mind went slightly fuzzy. He saw, seemingly from far away, that Jim had moved closer still. And then he registered that he, too, was closing the distance between them. And then Jim was leaning in, and so was he and then their lips were centimeters apart, now millimeters—he could feel the heat of Jim's body against his—

Jim's communicator chirped.

"Fuck," Jim said, leaning back, pulling it from his belt and flipping it open. "Kirk here. What's the issue?"

Spock took a large step backward, eyes wide, shocked at himself. He had almost… no, this is unacceptable. He glanced at Jim, who was staring back at him, barely paying attention to something Scotty was ranting about on the other end of the comm.

Spock took another step backward, and seeing this, Jim's eyes widened in dismay. He looked at the comm with frustration, and cut Scotty off mid sentence. "Whatever, Mr. Scott. Just tell the techs not to do anything else until you get there. Order them, you're the chief of engineering—you have the power. I'll check in with you later." He snapped the comm closed.

"Spock."

"Captain," Spock responded warily. Jim closed his eyes at the title, but didn't correct him. When he opened them again, the normally piercing blue had darkened once again.

"Spock, I would very much like to continue what we were about to do when Scotty so rudely interrupted." He took a step toward his first officer, who took another mirroring step backward.

"Sexual relations between a superior officer and his subordinates are prohibited by Starfleet regulation 38.4. It would be irresponsible to break regulations, especially as we are the commanding officers of Starfleet's flagship. We set the example for the entire 'fleet."

"Fuck setting examples, I want you. I'm sick of watching you from a distance. And your reaction, here, with me…" he trailed off, his eyes unsure.

The breath that Spock released was shaky. He took another step backward, and the back of his knees bumped into soft cushions—he had run into one of the couches that lined the walls of the library. He looked up at Jim, who hadn't moved.

"I admit to finding you… intriguing… as well, Jim."

Jim covered the space between them before Spock had even realized he had moved. Suddenly, they were not quite touching, but Spock could again feel the heat from his captain's body, and an almost electrical charge sparking between them.

"If you really want to follow regulations, I'll respect your wishes, Spock," Jim said softly. "But damn if I don't think about you every night when I'm alone in bed… your body, your hands, your eyes… fuck, even your ears."

He reached up a hand and gently traced a finger along the curve of Spock's ear, starting at the pointed tip and moving slowly down. Spock's eyes rolled back, overwhelmed by Jim's emotions / _desire, nervousness, need, want/_ blasting through this minute physical contact.

Spock's hands were moving without his express permission, and suddenly they were resting lightly on Jim's hips. Both men inhaled sharply at this admission of… something… and then they moved simultaneously, lips tentatively brushing.

Jim's hands moved to mirror Spock's, resting on the other man's hips, and then he suddenly pulled himself closer to the Vulcan, the movement causing them to overbalance—Spock's usual grace negated by his complete inability to think—and they tumbled into a sitting position on the couch behind Spock, with Jim straddling him.

The movement broke their kiss, and they stared wildly into the other's eyes for a moment, both breathing heavily. Well, Jim was breathing heavily and Spock was breathing noticeably.

Jim turned his head slightly and moved in to continue their kiss—

And his communicator chirped again.

He leaned back, aggravated, and pulled it from his belt, flipping it open even as he moved his other hand to caress Spock's cheek. Spock, whose eyes were still wide, whose mouth was still slightly open in shock, and whose entire face was flushed a slight shade of green.

"Kirk here," he said, voice surprisingly calm for someone who was straddling his first officer.  _Exceptionally calm,_ Spock thought, for someone who had his extremely noticeable erection pressing on the front of his pants and who was undoubtedly aware of another erection burning firmly against the back of his thigh.

Scotty sounded like he was having a nervous breakdown. His accent had thickened to the point where it was nearly indecipherable, and he sounded like he was crying. Just about the only thing Spock could make out was that apparently, 'fleet engineers were disassembling something that they weren't supposed to be touching, and were refusing to stop.

"Fine, I'll come down," Jim said over the pleas. "I'll be there in… oh, ten minutes. Can you handle that?" After receiving an extremely grateful affirmative, he shut his communicator again, and gazed at Spock, who had finally managed to steel his facial expression into something that resembled his usual placid look.

"Please meet me in my quarters in an hour," Jim mumbled. "We, at the very least, need to talk. Although, I would like to continue this more than you possibly imagine." He leaned in and chastely pressed a small kiss to Spock's still slightly open mouth.

Spock nodded mutely, and found that he couldn't tear his eyes away from his captain when Jim slowly got up, adjusted his uniform, and shakily said, "Uh, computer, exit?" A door materialized next to them, and slid open when Kirk stepped up to it. With one last long glance at his First, Jim left.

**OoOoOo**

Jim was rubbing his temples. His eyes darted back and forth between Montgomery Scott and the Starbase's Chief of Engineering (he couldn't for the life of him remember the man's name, and in truth, he didn't even slightly care) who were standing on either side of him, screaming at one another.

Apparently, various modifications that Scotty had made on the Enterprise's engines were not within regulations, and therefore needed to be removed. Nevermind that those same modifications meant less fuel consumption and more efficient waste elimination—if it wasn't in the manual, it wasn't allowed.

Jim had been playing moderator for almost ninety minutes, and he was done. It was half an hour past when he'd told Spock he would meet him, and the only things on his mind were long fingers, brown eyes, and green-flushed skin. Not engine capabilities and the bureaucratic process of implementing new technology into Starfleet's databases.

"All right, enough!" he interjected, grabbing at Scotty's fist as it was pulled back into a fighting stance. "Lieutenant… whatever your name is. Off my ship. I don't give a rat's ass about your procedure, you have been removed from this assignment. Scotty, chill out. I'll figure out your issue tomorrow. Go get some sleep, it will all be sorted out."

The unnamed Lieutenant glared at him, but didn't refuse a direct order. He turned and stalked out, signaling his men to follow. Scotty turned, beaming at Jim, and opened his mouth to start gushing. Jim raised a hand to stop him before he could start.

"I don't care. We will deal with this tomorrow. Now, I would like to get back to the just intensely sexy thing I left waiting for me in my quarters." This effectively shut Scotty up, and Jim was (thank god) finally able to leave.

By walking quickly ( _it's not running if you have at least one foot on the floor_ , he told himself) Jim was back to his quarters in less than three minutes. No sign of Spock waiting outside, ( _He'd go in, he wouldn't want to wait in the hall for half an hour_ ) so he keyed in his entry code and the door slid open. His room was deserted.

"Fuck! Computer, what is the location of Commander Spock?" Jim felt as if something was ripping inside him. He hadn't read the signs wrong, right? Spock had wanted him just as much as he wanted Spock… but that was close to unbelievable. God, he probably had misinterpreted things… Spock's wide eyes had been shock and disgust, not longing and desire…

"Commander Spock is in his quarters," the computer responded smoothly. Jim turned quickly to leave, to go confront his First. He strode back out his door, turned right, and was at the entrance to Spock's quarters in ten steps. He raised his hand to the keypad, and then…couldn't move any further.

_I'm wrong. He didn't want me. He was startled, and I grabbed his hands, and I know what that means to Vulcans and I was out of line…_  a passing yeoman gave him a curious look as she walked by, and he realized how odd he must look, frozen, hand extended, in front of his XO's door.

He shook his head. If nothing else, they could talk. He rang the bell.

A minute dragged out, and then the door slid open, revealing the object of his desires. Spock had removed his blue overshirt and was only wearing the regulation short-sleeved black undershirt and pants. This was the first time Jim had seen him without shoes, and there was something incredibly… debauched about that. Jim smiled, and Spock flushed green.

"Hey. Could I… uh. Come in? If you don't want… I mean, but we should talk… but…" Jim, realizing how ridiculous he sounded, rubbed a hand across his eyes. "Sorry, I don't know what to say."

"Come in, Captain." Spock responded after a beat of silence. He stepped back to allow the other man access to his quarters. Taking a deep breath, Jim followed.

Gesturing for Jim to join him, Spock sat stiffly on the edge of his couch. "Cap-Jim. The events in the Holographic deck were—" Jim cut him off, childishly not wanting to hear the excuse. If anyone was going to do the rejecting, it was James Kirk.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have jumped on you like that. I let my feelings get the better of me, and I can be… stronger in that regard. I promise. I don't want this to mess up the friendship we've got going, and I know you don't feel the same way—you couldn't feel the same way—so let's just forget that happened, and go back to the same relationship we had before this afternoon.

"Oh. That… would be the most logical choice, of course… Captain." Spock looked down at his hands, which were resting lightly in his lap, so Jim missed the look of disappointment that he let flit across his pale features.

They sat in silence for a moment before Spock shook his head. He licked his lips, and Jim couldn't help but trace the movement with his eyes.  _God, to feel that tongue on my body…_ Spock took a breath, apparently steeling his resolve, and reached out, clasping Jim's hand in his own.

"Jim. Your conclusions about the nature of my desires are illogical. It is unlikely that you were unaware of my… physical reaction… to our earlier encounter. Why you are choosing to ignore facts is beyond me. It is unlike you." He spoke slowly, and kept his eyes fixed on their clasped hands. He traced his thumb along Jim's first finger, and Jim felt bursts of pleasure at this small contact.

Jim watched Spock's thumb trace a pattern over his hand for a few seconds, his brain just about shorted out with happiness, before he let out a low moan and leaned forward. Spock seemed to know what was happening almost before Jim did, and met him halfway.

With their lips barely brushing one another's, Jim spoke softly. "We can't go back from this. If we… well things could never be the same."

"I would not want them to."

Spock reached his free hand up and threaded it in tawny blonde hair, pulling Jim in the final millimeters. Their lips crashed together, needing and wet, and both men groaned softly. Spock allowed himself to be pushed backward so that for the second time today, he was being straddled on a couch.

Their fingers explored one another's faces, chests, legs, and their kiss deepened. Jim ventured his tongue into Spock's mouth, and was met with another tongue that was much hotter than his own, and slightly rough. With a low growl, Spock thrust his hips upward, and Jim again felt the formidable length that his First possessed.

"Let's… move… bed…" Jim groaned into Spock's insistent lips, and without warning him, Spock stood up with Jim in his arms. The other man gave a small gasp of surprise, and locked his legs around Spock's waist. Suddenly, he found himself lying on his back on the bed, and Spock was staring down at him, his chocolate eyes dilated all the way to black.

Spock stood up, making Jim whimper at the lost heat (and  _god_  what heat it was) and pulled his black shirt over his head, revealing a narrow, lightly muscled chest. The green tint that flushed his face continued down his chest, which was lightly spattered with dark hair. Jim's eyes slid down to follow the path of the hair that started beneath Spock's bellybutton and disappeared into the waistband of the Vulcan's slacks.

He reached out, tracing with his fingers the path his eyes had taken just moments before, and hooked his hands into the top of Spock's pants. The Vulcan drew in a sharp breath, and his hips jerked forward a miniscule amount.

"Impatient, Mr. Spock…" Jim murmured, letting go of the waistband and lightly running his fingers over the significant bulge that tented out the front of his First's trousers.

"Vulcans do not feel impatience, Captain," Spock countered, but when Jim glanced up at him, the brown eyes were crinkled slightly into a Vulcan smile. Jim answered with his own grin.

"Tease."

"I believe you are the one who is teasing, sir." Spock breathed, again minutely thrusting his hips forward. Jim smiled at that, and then deftly unzipped Spock's fly and pushed his pants down, all in one motion.

"You're not wearing underwear, Mr. Spock." Jim eyed the large, green flushed, double ridged organ that was bobbling slightly at his eye level.

"I admit that I modified the amount of clothing I usually wear in the event that it would… facilitate… our enjoyment of this evening."

"Did you, now…" Jim looked up through his lashes at Spock. He kept the eye contact as he moved slowly forward, his tongue lapping at Spock's dark green head. Smiling when he saw the other man's eyes fly open in desire, Jim turned to the matter at hand, and slid his mouth over the head, lips brushing past the ridges, and took as much of the other man down his throat as he could manage.

Spock wound his hands into Jim's hair and rocked slightly back and forth. "Wonderful," he moaned softly, and Jim smiled around his cock. He bobbed his head a few times, and then pulled off with a soft pop.

Spock growled again, and Jim gave him a reproachful look. "Don't get greedy. I'm still fully dressed." Spock snorted ( _actually snorted! _Jim laughed in his head) and reached down to pull off the captain's shirts. Jim toed off his shoes and socks, and once his arms were free, hastily undid his fly.

Spock leaned him back again on the bed, and Jim slightly lifted his hips, allowing the other man to more easily remove his slacks and boxers in one go. Spock slung them with little regard to where they landed to the other side of the room. He sat back again, taking in Jim's highly toned body.

Jim suddenly felt slightly shy. Yes, he was just as muscled as ever, but years in space weren't exactly the best environment to keep a nice tan. And Spock's impassive face was taking in everything. Jim wished for about the millionth time that Spock would show just a bit of… something. Anything. Did he like what he saw?

Spock raised an eyebrow. "You are feeling insecure. You should not be. I find your body aesthetically pleasing."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Not the hottest bedroom talk ever, Spock."

Spock's other eyebrow joined his first, and the corners of his mouth barely turned up. He appeared to think for a moment, and then leaned down so their bodies were touching from check to toe. "You are beautiful, Jim. Your body pleases me."

"Oh Jesus, Spock." Jim groaned and writhed underneath the other man. "Please touch me…"

"Indeed." Spock began grinding against his captain, their erections smearing precome on one another's stomachs. Jim snaked a hand between them and grasped both of them, stroking roughly. Spock's mouth opened in a silent groan, and Jim took the opportunity to press their lips together again.

Spock responded in kind, and his tongue flicked into Jim's mouth, tracing along his teeth. After a moment of this, Jim suddenly pulled away, stopping his stroking, and put a finger to Spock's mouth.

"I want you to take me. I want you inside me, please," he whispered breathily. Spock's eyes widened again, but he nodded. He appeared to try for rational thought for a moment, but Jim brought Spock's hand to his mouth and sucked two fingers in.

"Nng."

Jim smiled, still tongue lavishing Spock's fingers, and hummed happily. He'd just made Spock make an inarticulate noise. He really  _was_  great at this. Satisfied that Spock's fingers were wet enough, Jim let go. Spock blinked and looked at his hand, slight confusion showing on his face.

Suddenly it occurred to Jim that Spock may really not know what he was doing. He'd never heard of Spock getting it on with anyone, and Uhura had told him that they never progressed past the occasional kiss…

"You have to stretch me," Jim said softly. "Or else you could hurt me. I've… bottomed before, but it's been awhile, so…"

"I do not wish to hurt you." Spock's eyebrows drew together slightly, looking concerned. Jim just smiled and nodded.

"I know. I'll be fine. Just…" he trailed off and guided Spock's hand to his entrance. Getting the picture, Spock slid in one finger and wiggled it, while his eyes closed in muted pleasure.  _Sensitive Vulcan hands,_  Jim thought, smiling again when he realized how good this must feel for Spock, too.

"Another, Spock. And then stretch… a bit…" Spock added another finger and then scissored them gently, relishing the tight feel of his captain clenching down on his hand.

"That's good," Jim said haltingly. Lemme on top, I wanna ride you…" Spock rolled over so that Jim was in control, and the corners of his mouth quirked up again.

"I was under the assumption that the one…bottoming?" he shot a questioning glance at Jim, unsure that he had used the term correctly. Jim nodded. Spock continued. "…that the one bottoming was the one in the subservient position. You are being what I understand is termed a 'pushy bottom.'"

"Yea, well," Jim replied, positioning himself over Spock's straining erection, the tip just barely brushing his puckered muscle, "I'm the captain. I don't know how to not be pushy." And with that, he sank slowly onto Spock, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he impaled himself further and further.

When Spock was buried up to the hilt, Jim paused, gasping, adjusting to the feeling of that oversized dick filling him better than he had ever been filled before. He looked down at his first, who was twitching gently underneath him, his mouth slightly open and breathing labored.

With a soft groan, Jim started rocking, angling himself so that Spock's double ridges brushed repeatedly over his prostate. Spock began to buck his hips in time with Jim's thrusts, and one of his hands flew to Jim's hip, pushing and pulling slightly to increase the power of their movements.

Spock's other hand went to Jim's cock, stroking in perfect time with their pushes, his long pale fingers occasionally flicking over Jim's tip, smearing the precome beading there along the shaft, in order to aid the ease of his hand.

The handjob coupled with the almost constant stimulation of his prostate was proving too much for Jim, and he felt the familiar pooling of warmth in his groin.

"I'm gonna… Spock, I'm…" and Jim released, his pearly ropes spooling on Spock's chest. Unable to help himself, he clenched down on Spock, whose eyes flew open even wider (if that was possible) at the added tightness. Seconds later, Jim felt almost unbearable heat filling him, and realized he had brought Spock to climax as well.

Their movements slowed and stopped, and Jim collapsed on top of Spock, smearing come onto both of their chests. He reluctantly rolled to the side, not wanting to lose contact with Spock's delightful heat.

After allowing themselves a moment more to catch their breath, Spock leaned over Jim and fumbled until his hand found his discarded undershirt. He gently used it to clean away the messier parts of their coupling, and then tossed it back on the floor.

Jim snuggled in closer to him, resting his head in the crook of Spock's shoulder. Human fingers met Vulcan ones, and Jim smiled at the surge of electricity he felt when he touched Spock's hand.

"This gesture is a Vulcan kiss, Jim."

"I know."

The two comfortably settled into silence for a few minutes, and Jim watched as Spock's eyes began to drift shut. Before his first could completely succumb to sleep, however, Jim had to say something that had been weighing on his conscience for months.

"Spock?"

"Mmm."

"I don't want this to be a one-time thing. I… care about you. I want us to… be together." Spock's eyes opened and he regarded Jim silently. Jim sat up, his face crumpling into worry. "This wasn't just about sex, right? I mean, it was great, yea, but I don't want just sex with you—I want  _you_ , everything about you… I –"

"Jim," Spock said forcefully, cutting the other man off. "Vulcans do not have casual relationships." He pulled his captain back down to his chest, and kissed him gently. Jim smiled into the kiss, and closed his eyes, snuggling closer, losing himself in Spock's heat.

**OoOoOo**

Weeks later, away from the Starbase and headed back toward strange new worlds, new life, and new civilizations, Jim found Spock on the Observation deck, reading.

"Whatcha got there, Mr. Spock?" Jim asked, sliding into a chair near his First. Spock glanced up at him, his expression unreadable.

"As you requested, I am reading Alice's Adventures in Wonderland." Jim grinned, thrilled that Spock had remembered.

"Well?"

Spock hesitated for a moment before responding. "While this work now holds some… sentimental value to me, you were correct in your assumption. I am finding it extraordinarily aggravating. I owe you fifty credits."

Jim grinned.

 


End file.
